


More Than One Way to Win

by scullymurphy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Dramione Fanfiction Writers's Trope Fest 2019, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake Shagging, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, Hogwarts Eighth Year, POV Draco Malfoy, Romance, Sexual Humor, Three Broomsticks, Tropes, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 09:42:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullymurphy/pseuds/scullymurphy
Summary: “That’s damn near impossible, even for me,” Blaise shook his head. “I think we’ve hit the bar. Is there anyone who would be more difficult to shag?”His words were hanging in the air when Draco felt a magnificent plan spring fully formed into his mind. Could it work? He thought it could. A grin split his face and he said, “I know someone.”“Who?” Theo demanded.“Granger.”“Oh fuck ME, I can’t believe we forgot her!” Theo was really slurring now. “She would never let any of us get within ten feet of her precious, pristine knickers. Not that I wouldn’t love to,” he leered. “But yeah. Impossible.”“Impossible, you say?” Draco tilted his head to the side and regarded his extremely pissed friend. “Would you care to wager on that?”





	1. The Set Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry into the Dramione Fanfiction Writers' Trope Fest 2019!! I was lucky enough to receive the 'Fake Relationship' prompt, which I was so excited about, because I have been dying to write this trope. Please enjoy this foray into Draco Malfoy's 19 year old mind (yes, it's 8th year and yes it's entirely from Draco's POV). xoxo ~SM

**The Set Up**

Draco Malfoy flipped over his shot glass and slammed it down on the table. 

“That’s six! You twats need to catch up.” 

Blaise Zabini snorted as Theo Nott extended a middle finger in Malfoy’s direction. 

“Just because some of us like to enjoy our whisky,” Blaise took an elegant nip. 

“This is_ not _ sipping quality,” Draco shook his head. 

“Fuck you,” said Theo, who had brought the bottle. “This is an Ogdens 18 year.” 

“Exactly.” 

“You know you are such a fucking cuntrag sometimes.” Theo gave Draco a filthy look, but then drained two shots in quick succession. “There, caught up. Zabini?” 

“Fine.” Blaise tipped his glass into his mouth and filled it again. “Happy now?” 

“Well let’s say ‘less-ashamed’ rather than ‘happy’,” Draco returned. After the week he’d had he wasn’t in the mood for a leisurely night where they sat by the fire slowly enjoying a drink or two, as if they were their bloody fathers. He wanted to get _ drunk _. Rat-arsed, titted, lashing, blotto drunk, and forget his life for a while. 

He’d known his mandated 8th year at Hogwarts was going to be a fucking chore. Between his unsavory activities during the war, his father’s public trial and subsequent Azkaban sentence, and the fact that a good number of people attending the school actively hated him, it really couldn’t be anything other than an extended ass-fuck. 

But this week, which had included losing the Seeker position on the Slytherin Quidditch team to an incompetent 3rd year, could suck a particularly large dick. He filled his glass again and let the smooth liquid burn down his throat. He had been mostly fucking with Theo - it was actually pretty decent. 

Theo cleared his throat, “All right, tossers. It’s time for a little game.” Draco noted his friend was slurring and snorted to himself. Theo was such a lightweight, but at least he was entertaining. 

“Not ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’, please Theo. We’re not 4th years,” Blaise sniffed. To Draco’s amusement, Theo abruptly shut his mouth and cut his eyes from side to side. 

“Ah, no. Of course not. I mean,” he sat up and leaned toward them with a leer, “who cares about the marry and kill part?” 

“If you want to know who i’d most like to fuck, that’s fairly simple,” Blaise held up an elegant hand and counted down. “1. Weasley 2. Vane 3. Greengrass.” 

“Which one?” Draco said, thinking of the equally gorgeous Greengrass sisters, Daphne in 8th year and Astoria in 6th. 

“Both,obviously. Preferably together.” Blaise’s smile was positively feral. Draco rolled his eyes. _ Typical. _

“Weasley’s your number 1, though?” Theo asked, looking unsettled by the idea. 

“Her body is insane and I like that take no prisoners attitude. And of course the fact that you have such a hard-on for her would make it that much sweeter.” Blaise slanted a smirk at Theo, who tried to look blasé but failed. Blaise started laughing. 

“All right, shut the fuck up, Zabini,” Theo shouldered up from the slouchy armchair he was occupying and refilled his glass. “I actually had a different question, anyway.”

“Do tell,” said Draco. 

Theo leveled a smirk at his two friends. “Hogwarts’ biggest challenges.”

Draco frowned. What was he on about? Blaise looked similarly confused, so Theo elaborated. “The girls who would never let us! Weasley is actually a great example. We’re all dying to shag her,”

“Not all of us,” said Draco. 

“All of us with working male parts are dying to shag her,” clarified Theo. “But would she have any of us? Potter’s ex? A Weasley, Gryffindor’s star seeker? Plus she’s gorgeous. It would be almost impossible.”

“Says you,” Blaise smirked. 

“Actually I think Daphne might fall into this category too,” mused Draco, warming to the subject. “That ice princess thing? And I think she might swing for the other team anyway. Pansy has hinted.” Blaise moaned with poorly suppressed desire.

“Legrand!” Theo shouted and the three wizards nodded and groaned. A seventh year Slytherin so wealthy she only attended Hogwarts a handful of months out of the year. And betrothed to an older boy from Durmstrang who was some sort of Count. 

“That’s damn near impossible, even for me,” Blaise shook his head. “I think we’ve hit the bar. Is there anyone more difficult?” 

His words were hanging in the air when Draco felt a magnificent plan spring fully formed into his mind. _ Could it work? _ He thought it could. A grin split his face and he said, “I know someone.” 

“Who?” Theo demanded. 

“Granger.”

“Oh fuck ME, I can’t believe we forgot her!” Theo was really slurring now. “She would never let any of us get within 10 feet of her precious, pristine knickers. Not that I wouldn’t love to,” he leered. “But yeah. Impossible.”

“Impossible, you say?” Draco tilted his head to the side and regarded his extremely pissed friend. “Would you care to wager on that?” 

Theo’s eyes lit and Blaise sat up straighter in his seat. 

“What are your terms?” 

“If I can prove I’ve fucked Granger by a mutually agreed upon point in time, you give me your box at the Quidditch world cup next summer.” The Malfoy box had strangely been one of the things ‘confiscated’ by the ministry at his father’s sentencing.

“Fuck, that’s worth 10,000 galleons,” Blaise’s habitual cool was shaken. 

“Hmmm,” Theo swirled the liquid in his glass and stared into the distance. “I risk a measly 10k to get to watch you be magnificently rejected by the biggest swot in school? Who also happens to have a wicked wand hand and will probably hex your balls off in the process? I’d say that’s actually a pretty decent exchange.” 

Draco inclined his head. Since Nott senior had died, Theo had been making quite free with the family fortune, which was vast. 

“I dunno, Theo.” Blaise was shaking his head. “It’s risky. My man here is skilled. Look at all the tail he gets even though he’s ex-death eater scum. And he’s just been assigned Granger’s potions partner, so he’s got an in.”  
  
Draco gave Blaise a pretend dirty look. Blaise put up his hands and smiled. 

“Ok so let’s make it harder, then” Theo was saying. “You not only _ shag _ Granger, but you make her fall for you. You take her out on dates, you get her blushing… you get her to agree to _ go to the Winter Ball with you _!” His eyes blazed with triumph.

Draco squinted in what he hoped was a convincingly skeptical way. “You’re insane, Theo.” 

“No, no!” Theo had jumped up and was weaving in place. “I’ll make it worth your while. An extra 5k. In gold. IF she goes to the ball with you and, annnnd - snogs you on the dance floor for the whole school to see. And you have to have shagged her by then too.” 

“And if I lose?” 

“Oh fuck, I don’t care. Your humiliation is my reward,” Theo chortled. 

Draco smirked then sat, letting the silence draw out as he appeared to contemplate the terms. Finally, when Theo was starting to sputter, he looked up, stuck out his hand and said, “you’re on.” 

“Yessssss…” Theo did a little victory dance, holding the whisky bottle and sloshing liquid from his glass. 

“This year just got so much more interesting,” Blaise’s white teeth glinted against his golden skin. “Ok, chaps. Let’s work out the details.” 

~oOo~

Draco lingered near the doorway to the potions lab a good fifteen minutes before class was supposed to start. He knew Granger liked to get there early to ‘arrange her workspace,’ as she’d primly informed him the day before, when Slughorn had made them partners. He’d rolled his eyes then, but secretly appreciated the neatly organized set up and how they were able to immediately jump into the assignment rather than scramble around like everyone else. 

He’d also appreciated having someone actually competent to work with. Their sleeping draught had turned out absolutely perfect; a pearlescent blue with little wisps of lavender-scented steam wafting from it. They’d been yawning just sniffing at it.

Slughorn had been so pleased, he’d immediately bottled it and stowed it rather furtively in a locked desk drawer. Draco had no doubt he’d be scuttling off to the apothecary in Hogsmeade to sell it post-haste. Judging by Granger’s frown, she had drawn the same conclusion. When he’d lifted a brow at her, she’d just shaken her head and shrugged, muttering, “just leave it. He probably needs the money.” Draco had been a bit surprised by that. 

He paced as he watched the corridor like a hawk. She’d better not be late. His whole plan hinged on this conversation and he couldn’t think of another non-obvious way to get her alone. He needed to talk to her today so that everything would go into motion properly.

He laughed softly to himself at the genius of the thing. Not being an idiot, he never would have agreed to Theo’s wager had he not had an inside track. And what a track it was…

Yesterday after Potions, Granger had suggested they meet in the library to discuss which long form draught they were going to brew for their winter term assignment. Not wanting to be anywhere near the Slytherin common room after the Quidditch tryout results were announced, Draco had arrived early and walked into the middle of a _ very _interesting conversation. 

Granger had been sitting with the Weaselette, voice raised in annoyance, so naturally Draco had stopped his normal approach and ducked behind a bookshelf to listen in. 

“He fucking broke up with me, that’s what happened!” Granger sounded more angry than hurt. “God, I can’t believe I didn’t do it first. Fucking PRAT.” 

“What the _ fuck _! Why?” 

“He doesn’t want us ‘distracted during school and auror training’. What utter shite. He wants to play the field, of course! You know what I’m talking about. He and Harry can’t go anywhere without slags hanging on them, practically offering to get on their knees for an autograph or a photo.”

_ Damn, Granger _. Draco grinned.

“And in the meantime, I’m still walking around with this swot-bookworm reputation. Like I’m frigid and/or Ron’s little wifey, off limits because he pissed on me or something. FUCK.”  
  
Granger was _ furious _. He had to admit, it was a bit of a turn-on. 

The Weaselette was making soothing noises, but also agreeing. It couldn’t have been easy on her, either. Potter was basically wizard Jesus at this point. Draco congratulated himself - _ those ministry mandated muggle studies classes were really paying off in the analogy department _. 

Granger was still ranting though, “and today, a mere _ two days _ after we have this ‘let’s take a break’ conversation. After HE breaks up with ME, he shows up in the _ Prophet _ with an absolute MILCH COW of a human!”

Draco had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He had seen the photo in question - the weasel and some tart walking out of club late last night - and the girls’ tits _ had _ been obscenely large. Weasley was so predictable. 

“Gods, I wish I could find a way to wipe that stupid smile off his face,” Granger snarled. “If you have any ideas for how I can get back at him, please let me know.” Draco heard the Weaselette say a laughing goodbye then move off in the opposite direction, so he waited a moment then nonchalantly walked around the corner. 

Granger’s greeting was cordial, if still a little tense, but they’d managed to spend an uneventful hour together planning their assignment, and she’d even said it was going to be ‘good to work with him’ before he’d left. 

So when Theo cooked up his little game, the pieces of a divinely orchestrated plan had presented themselves and then fallen into place like a beautiful jigsaw. Draco was not one to pass up such an opportunity.

At that moment he heard footsteps and looked up to see Granger striding down the hall, staring down at a notebook, curls bouncing. He watched her progress from behind a convenient suit of armor as she drew closer. Just as she passed him he whipped out a seeker-quick hand (see, he should have made the fucking _ team _), pulled her into the empty closet and disarmed her. 

After a little struggle she jammed her foot down hard on his instep and got free. “What the actual FUCK?” She whipped around, “Malfoy, what are you doing?” Her cheeks were stained and she was breathing hard. 

Draco of course couldn’t respond right away due to the excruciating pain shooting up his inner foot and leg, so he just hopped in place and glared at her for a moment, while she tried the door, then took a deep breath in as if she were about to scream. 

“Sticking charm. Silencing charm,” he managed to grunt as he bent over to rub his arch. “For fuck’s sake, Granger you could have maimed me for life!” He directed a stricken look at her as she crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. 

“You got what you deserved. What the hell are you doing grabbing girls out of corridors??”

“Not girls. You,” he huffed out. “I have a proposition for you.” 

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. The stain on her cheeks got darker and Draco couldn’t help a massive smirk stealing across his face. 

“Not _ that _ type of proposition, Granger. Merlin, I’m a little smoother than that.” 

Her brows drew together ferociously and she actually snarled. “Start explaining, Malfoy, or I’m going to experiment with my wandless magic techniques. And I warn you, previous efforts have not been pretty.” 

“Ok, ok!” He put his hands up. “I have a chance for us to combine forces and make 15,000 galleons.” 

“I’m not helping you brew black market potions or euphoric draughts, Malfoy. I could use some cash, but not that badly. Also you just barely escaped Azkaban - do you think playing fast and loose with the law is a good idea?” She skewered him with a sharp gaze. 

“It’s nothing like that. Nothing illegal,” he said. “Just hear me out.” He outlined the background of the bet, smoothing over the less savory edges of the conversation. He then put up his hands again, “I admit, I overheard a little of your conversation yesterday when I got to the library. I know you want to get back at the Weasel. And we can take advantage of the fact that Theo and Blaise are idiots and forgot to make my not telling you a condition of the bet. So we can collaborate and make it really good. Cinematic, even. And you know the _ Prophet _ will love it.” 

Granger’s face had gone from skeptical to outraged (when he got to the eavesdropping bit) then to mildly intrigued, and she was now gazing at him with an openly speculative look. 

“What are the terms?” 

“Six weeks, three public dates. We have to be seen snogging or making out at least twice. We have to offer convincing proof that we’ve shagged. You have to go to the Winter Ball with me. And we have to make it believable that you’ve ‘fallen’ for me so we can get the extra 5k. Theo mentioned you snogging me on the dance floor at the ball as an example.” 

Draco could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

She looked up at him finally and nodded. “That sounds reasonable. But we’re going to need to plan this, Malfoy. I’m not going in blind or winging it. There’s going to be an outline, a timeline and in some cases a script.” She ticked the items off on her fingers. 

“Fine with me. I like a good plan.” She gave him an approving glance. “Although,” he tapped his chin, “I think just preliminarily we could act a little friendly in potions today - to set the mood.”

She nodded again. “Ok, yeah. Good idea. And I actually like working with you, so that helps.” 

Draco felt pleased at this small compliment, which he found alarming. 

“Oh,” he coughed. “And one more thing. Our ‘breakup’ at the end.” She looked at him questioningly. “You have to do the dumping. I’m not about to add ‘broke the golden girl’s heart’ to my list of transgressions. So you’ll have to play the bad guy - or at least spread the story that it was your decision.” 

She put her chin up. “I actually like that. It will help with my new image. “Broke the hot Slytherin prince’s heart.” 

He felt a half smile tug at the corner of his mouth. _ So she thought he was hot... _

She smiled back and they just gazed at each other for a moment. Then it occurred to Draco that they were standing very close together in a silenced closet. He started and stepped back, giving her wand back and putting out his hand. “Deal?”

“Deal,” she confirmed, grasping his palm firmly “Now where should we meet to draw up the plan…?”


	2. Week One

**Week 1**

Draco waited at the school entrance, a bit impatient to get started. He and Granger had met in secret a few times over the last week and he was confident that they were going to pull it off. Today was date #1 to Hogsmeade and he found he was actually looking forward to it. It was certainly more fun than watching that idiot third year walk out to practice _ his _ position on _ his _ Quidditch team. 

He snickered to himself. Granger had shown up at the first meeting like the swot she was, with color-coded charts, graph paper and a look that had said, ‘do not try to mess with my scheduling techniques,’ so he’d stayed hands off and let her take the lead in working out the timeline. In return he had come up with most of the date ideas and an entertaining scenario to convince Blaise and Theo that they had shagged. Granger had actually cracked up when he described it to her and had got into the spirit of making it believable - throwing out suggestions and little embellishments.

So they’d ended up with a rather good plan. He could picture in his mind the perfectly organized chart she had supplied him with after their meeting:

  * Week 1: Planning & friendly banter/flirting
  * Week 1: First date: Hogsmeade
  * Week 2: First snogging session discovery: 4th floor broom closet
  * Week 3: Second date: Slug Club party
  * Week 3: Second snogging session discovery: leave open to interpretation 
  * Week 4: 3rd Date: Romantic location TBD
  * Week 5: Simulated shagging session
  * Week 6: Ball 

And then she had all kinds of notes under each item - snippets of detail and setting, dialog in some cases, an annotated explanation of why they were leaving the second snogging session open to whatever struck them at the time,(“it will be more believable if it seems natural”) and ideas for how to involve other students (“I’m letting Ginny in on this, she’s diabolical and can keep a secret.”) _ and _ the press. Draco was a bit in awe of her ruthless mind. She would have made a decent Slytherin. 

“Hello, Malf… _ Draco _ ,” said Granger as she tripped down the steps. He spun to greet her. _ Merlin _ , she looked rather pretty in a delicate white blouse and a colorful scarf twisted around her curls. He did enjoy muggle denims too. _ Never let it be said that he hadn’t gotten more open-minded. _

“Very nice, Granger,” he said, eyeing her up and down and offering her his arm. 

“‘Hermione’,” she corrected, her eyes focusing on something behind him. She suddenly giggled and blinked up at him, “shall we go, Draco?” 

“Yes, let’s,” he murmured, watching a wide-eyed Ravenclaw 7th year sidle past them. _ And that would be the rumour mill started _. His mouth lifted in a smug smile and he glanced down at her to see her meeting his eyes with a similar expression. She slipped her arm through his and tucked in close as they walked out to the path to the village. 

~oOo~

A bit later they were standing in the aisles of the Hogsmeade book shop arguing good-naturedly, if a little heatedly, over whether or not Shakespeare was a squib.

“You are completely full of shit, Malfoy,” Granger was declaring with one finger in the air. “For one thing, if he had been a squib, don’t you think he would have written something set in the magical world?”

“How do you know he didn’t?” 

“Because his works are known. There is no evid… Wait.” She stopped as she saw the look on his face, her eyes widening comically. “_ What _do you know?” 

“The Malfoy and Black libraries are just very extensive,” he said vaguely, then winked at her. She started to sputter, but he had noticed a very interesting development enter the shop. 

“Psst, Granger, _ shh _. Vane just walked in.” 

“Romilda Vane? What’s she doing in a bookshop?” 

“I don’t know,” he craned his neck. Yes, it was definitely the school’s biggest gossip, looking around gingerly as if she was in an exotic foreign land. “She probably followed us.” He fixed Granger with a look. “I don’t need to tell you this is a golden opportunity.” 

She snorted, “_ please _.” 

Vane was getting closer. “Just follow my lead,” he muttered and spun Granger by the shoulders to face the shelves. He stepped behind her, almost touching her, and then bent his head toward her neck and said, a little too loudly for the quiet of the empty shop, “have you read this one?” His arm snaked around her to pull a title down, moving him even closer and trapping her between him and the shelves. 

“Nooo,” she murmured, placing her hand on his to turn over the book. She peeped over her shoulder and gazed into his face, then swept him a heated look from under her lashes. “Is it any good?”

To his shocked surprise, Draco felt a rush of heat. He looked silently into her upturned face for several beats. _ Fuck, she was good at this _ . _ Had he ever noticed before what a pretty mouth she had? _ A sharp little jab landed somewhere near his solar plexus and he blinked.

“Very good,” he said in a slow, deep voice, letting a smile spread over his face. Granger then turned fully around and leaned against the shelves, hands behind her back, giving him that same come hither look. Draco was a _ little _ mollified to see heightened spots of color on her cheeks. 

He leaned into the shelf, his head lowering toward hers. He locked his eyes on hers as well. 

“Then I’ll take it.” She licked her lips. 

A clatter from down the aisle startled Draco out of a surprisingly detailed fantasy and revealed Vane dropping a heavy tome on the floor (_ “Advanced Arithmancy Techniques for the Dedicated Hobbyist” _) as she stared at them with an open mouth. 

“Oh hi, Romilda!” Granger sang. “Are you an Arithmancy hobbyist too? I was thinking of getting a group together. Meetings Saturdays from 8-10pm. Shall I put you down for a space?” 

“Er, no!” the witch sputtered, setting the book down as if it were hot. “I was just leaving.” She nodded to each of them, “Granger. Malfoy,” her eyes widened as she said the two names together and then she sprinted out of the shop. 

Draco started chuckling as soon as the door clanged shut. Granger looked up at him with a triumphant grin. ‘Nice one, partner!” she said, putting the palm of her hand up toward his face.

He looked at it, confused. “What? Why do you want me to halt?” 

“Malfoy do you not know what a high-five is?” Granger’s eye roll was intense. “My God, you are such a special pureblood flower.” She put her hand down and grabbed his, “come on let’s go to the Three Broomsticks. I’m starving.” 

“But wait, what…?” he sputtered as they walked out and down the lane. “Is it some sort of ritual?” 

She just waved her hand in the air, shook her head and laughed.

~oOo~

“So I recited_ from memory _the 17 alternate uses for flobberworm pus!” Granger said with a flourish, uppercutting the air in front of her for emphasis. 

Draco laughed out loud. Who knew Granger could be funny? Of course she was on her third butterbeer and sounding a little tipsy. He’d better cut her off after this. Get them back to the castle in time for dinner. 

They had been huddled up at the bar in the pub for a couple of hours, backs to the rest of the room. One of Granger’s little annotations had suggested this seating arrangement because it “allowed them to sit close while giving the rest of the room an unfettered opportunity to observe them.” And she had been right, he had been feeling the stares bore into his back all day. Although it had been rather easy to ignore them. And surprisingly easy to sit and chat with Granger. 

He stopped laughing and sighed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. She was looking at him - rather bemusedly, he thought. 

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh before,” she tilted her head and peered at him. “Or smile. I mean other than in sort of a mean, bullying way.” 

He looked at her for a beat, brow raised. 

“You have a very nice smile,” she said, and he could feel both his eyebrows shoot up. She suddenly reddened and cleared her throat, looking over her shoulder distractedly. “Draco!” she hissed, whipping her head back around. “Theo and Blaise just came in!” Her eyes were snapping with excitement. “I have an idea! It’s related to note 3 on the ‘demonstrations of affection concepts’ section of the project plan.”

“Sure, fine, go ahead,” he said. “Do it, I’ll play along.”

Before he knew it, she’d slid her hand along the top of his shoulders and was leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Suddenly his senses were jammed with her. Her scent (warm, sweetly spiced) the tickle of her hair, her breath against his neck, the sensual movement of her hand on his back. He felt his breath quicken. 

And he thought he could detect a little hitch in her voice when she whispered, “I’m looking at Blaise and Theo right now and their jaws are practically on the ground.” He could hear a smile emerge as she continued, “Ok, now I’m going to stand up and walk to the loo, but I’m going to do it in a sexy way. Are you ready?” 

He nodded once. He was ready for _ something _. Fuck.

Before her lips left his ear, he felt them brush his skin ever so lightly. The touch was like hair trigger on his dick, which instantly got hard. Then she followed that little tactic by spinning his stool toward her as she slid off of hers, coming down to land between his legs. Finally she deliberately turned around, brushing the inside of his thigh _ and very nearly his crotch _ with her arse. As she walked away, she trailed her index finger just lightly across the top of his knee. 

It was a virtuosic performance; Draco felt like he was going to come in his pants. Watching her arse in her tight muggle jeans as she walked away wasn’t helping either. So he cut his eyes over to Theo and Blaise. Theo was also watching her progress and Blaise was looking down, grinning and shaking his head. When Theo looked over, Draco caught a distinct look of panic on this face. So Draco sent him a huge, shit-eating grin from the bar. 

Why had it never occurred to him how enjoyable this whole thing would be …?


	3. Week Two

**Week 2**

“So. Let’s go over the plan and our techniques one more time.” Granger was really flying her swot-flag today, the appointed date and time for their first witnessed snogging session. _ Was she nervous? _They were holed up in the notorious 4th floor broom closet preparing for their little performance. 

“We will commence snogging at 14:20 hours so as to be in a ‘convincing state’ by the time Theo and Blaise arrive and open this door, which should be at 14:25 hours. You gave them the precise instructions regarding timing, correct?” Draco nodded slowly and rolled his eyes at her. They had been over this _ several _times. 

Granger ignored him and took up the narrative again. “Between 14:20 and 14:25 - possibly a few moments past 14:25 depending on the reliability of your friends - we will engage in snogging, erm, activities.” 

Draco nodded then jumped up, suddenly needing a distraction from where his brain had gone at her words. “14:18, Granger. You ready to do this?” he rolled his neck and stretched out his wrists. 

“Almost,” she said and her voice was a bit muffled. He looked over and his eyes almost bugged out of his head. She was looking down and just finishing unbuttoning the entire top half of her blouse. He could see her whole bra as well as a very nicely shaped pair of… 

“Granger!” he practically shouted “What are you doing??”

“Well I figured it would be likely that you’d want to touch my … which means you’d need to unbutton. I was being _ proactive _!” she finished, hands on her hips, face bright red. 

“IF I were to do that during a mid-afternoon snog session in a broom closet, which yes, there _ is _ precedent,” he said, feeling just a tiny bit smug, “I would want to do it _ naturally _ to properly set the tone and make it believable. Nothing would smack more of faking it than you just turning around with wide eyes and your top gaping open if we were just doing a bit of kissing. Although the sight _ would _ probably stun Theo and Blaise, so they might be more easy to convince,” he mused. As he talked, he had walked over to her and began buttoning the blouse back up. “We’ll just leave a couple open at the top,” he said.

He flicked his eyes up and he realized he was very close. Her eyes were round as she looked at him, her lips slightly parted. 

“What?” 

“It’s just. No one usually ever bosses _ me _,” she whispered. 

Draco became very focused on her mouth. “What’s the time, Granger?” he breathed, stepping even closer to her. They were toe to toe now. 

She raised her wrist to look at her muggle watch over his shoulder and her eyes widened. “Shit! It’s 14:23! We went over! They could be here any minute! Ok remember that you have to turn me toward the door so that they can see the optimum angle. And I’m going to untuck your shirt at some point. You need to muss my hair. And don’t forget the…”

“It will be better if you’re not shouting instructions when they arrive,” he cut in, sliding his hands around her waist and pressing against her. She tensed and gave a tiny, surprised squeak and he had a bad moment where he thought they weren’t going to pull it off. But then she melted into him and her arms slid up around his neck and into his hair. And he suddenly found it very natural and easy to press his lips to hers. The squeak turned into a sigh and she immediately opened her mouth to invite him in. He had a flash of shocked surprise when he felt an eager tongue touch his, but after that he didn’t think much at all. 

Instead he just felt. He felt the soft pressure of her tits against his chest, the electicity of her fingers grazing his neck, the erotic twine of her tongue. Moments passed that were just feeling and sound - soft breaths and a moan from him when he felt her nails sweep up under his shirt against his bare skin - a sigh from her when he fisted his hand into her hair and tilted her head back to suck against the sensitive skin of her neck. The satiny sweep of her inner thigh… 

A long time later - or maybe it was a short time, Draco didn’t know - he’d lost track - a loud throat-clearing noise intruded on his consciousness. He felt like maybe it wasn’t the first one? Then an irritated voice said something about something. 

“I _ said _ ,” (oh, the voice was _ Blaise _ ) “Has anyone seen a pygmy puff? Theo’s _ lost _ his.” 

“Shut up, you wanker. I don’t have a fucking pygmy puff.” 

“I’m just trying to get his attention.” 

Draco very reluctantly lifted his head to give a look of pure death to his (_ ex) _ best friends. How _ dare _ they interrupt him when he was in the middle of such a spectacular snog? He then looked around, confused, reality intruding. How had Granger ended up sitting on a desk? And what was he doing pressed between her legs? How had her shirt gotten totally unbuttoned again? What was that mark on her neck? And where was his _ hand _?

He abruptly slid the appendage out from under her skirt and backed up a step, meeting her rather stricken expression with one of his own. She licked her lips and looked around at Blaise and Theo. “No, ah.” She shook her head. “No pygmy puffs here!” 

Draco suddenly realised she was half naked and stepped in front of her while she quickly did up her blouse and smoothed her hair. 

“Did you need something else?” He directed a murderous glare at Theo and Blaise, who were lingering and, at least in Blaise’s case, leering at the little performance. 

“Nope, all good! Sorry to bother.” Blaise saluted Draco as he backed out the door. Theo looked a little less cheery, his eyes darting from Granger to Draco in a nervous way. He kept looking over his shoulder as he left and Draco was forced to slam the door in his face. 

He then found himself strangely reluctant to turn around. _ What the fuck _ had just happened?

When he did finally turn, he found he was facing Granger’s back. She was waving her wand over her person and rapidly getting back to pre-snog status. 

She seemed to take a deep breath and then flipped to face him. “Well that went rather well, I think!” she said brightly. “Ooh you need a bit of help though.” Her wand waved over him and his shirt tucked itself in, his tie tightened and he could feel his hair start to ruffle. 

“No, Granger! Not the hair!” he said, affronted. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Well we only have 4 minutes until potions. I was just trying to help,” she huffed, picking up her bag and shouldering it. “I’ll see you there?” She was already moving fast out the door, neater now but still looking like she’d seen a ghost and/or her first erotic film. 

“Granger.” Draco said, a little desperate. “Wait.” 

“I really can’t, Draco. We’ve got to get to class. I already missed valuable set-up time!” She was almost out the door. 

“Granger,” he said feeling his voice strangle. “Your neck.” 

She stopped dead. “What?” 

“You have a mark. On your neck.” Gods, he hadn’t felt this embarrassed since she’d slapped him in 3rd year. 

Her eyes got huge and her hand floated up toward her collarbone. “I have a…?”

“Just stand still,” he whispered. “I know a spell. It’s not permanent, but it will get you through potions.” 

She exhaled and closed her eyes, then turned fully to face him, lifting her chin slightly. Of course, the motion turned him on again. But he ignored his body and worked the quick charm. “All set.”

She opened her eyes and nodded once before practically sprinting out of the room.


	4. Week Three

**Week 3**

Draco was having a fucking fantastic week. On Tuesday, the incompetent 3rd year Seeker had finally recognized his incompetence and quit the Slytherin team in tears, leaving them high and dry four days before their match against Ravenclaw. So the team captain had come to Draco and practically _ begged _, which Draco had enjoyed (and drawn out as long as he could) before agreeing to step in. 

On Wednesday, he’d improvised a delightful little interlude with Granger in the hallway outside of Ancient Runes. They’d been debating whether to hold their second snogging session before or after their date to the Slug Club party, (she’d only recently been able to say the word ‘snogging’ to him without blushing bright red, which he found vastly amusing) when Theo and Blaise had unexpectedly come around the corner. Draco, sensing an opportunity to prove himself after Theo had made some very dismissive comments about the interrupted snog session (“_ ...she sounded wayyy too nonchalant to have been really affected. You must be a shit kisser. Nice tits, though.” _ ) had hissed, “Granger, kiss me _ RIGHT NOW _.” It was a mark of how quick she was that she had understood what he was about instantly. 

She’d winked, then reached up and brushed her fingers across his jaw and into his hair, pulling his face toward hers as she went up on her tip-toes and planted the sweetest, most flirtatious kiss on his lips. His hand had immediately drifted to her arse and he’d pulled up her uniform skirt just a little as he hitched her closer. It had stopped his wanker friends in their tracks. And if he was being honest, laid him out too - especially when she’d gently tugged his bottom lip between her teeth before letting him go and sauntering away with a little wave over her shoulder. The conversation afterward with an obviously rattled Theo had been _ highly _ satisfying. 

Then on Thursday he’d been the undisputed star of Quidditch practice, with no less that six of the seven players and three alternates privately telling him that they didn’t know what the twat captain had been on about, choosing that third year over him. 

And now it was Friday and he was in bed nice and early (and sober) so that he’d be in prime twig for the match tomorrow. Granger had been over before - they’d planned a closed door ‘study session’ in his rooms to further unnerve Theo - and in a right shitty mood because the Weasel had been photographed snogging in the _ Prophet _again - this time with a leggy brunette. Although Draco thought he’d been pretty successful at pulling her out of it. Within a few minutes she’d been laughing at his creative suggestions for getting revenge on the red-headed git. 

At one point, he’d been talking about options for public humiliation and she’d gotten very still, then looked at him with the oddest expression. He hadn’t been able to get her to tell him what she was thinking - she’d said only that he’d know soon enough - but, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, he didn’t envy the Weasel at _ all _. 

~oOo~

Ah, Saturday. It was a glorious day for Quidditch - deep blue sky, crisp November air, the sound of banners snapping in the wind... Draco could feel the crowd’s energy as he zipped around the pitch, warming up before the match. Competing chants and songs rang out over the glen in a glorious cacophony and the press box was crammed with reporters and dignitaries. The first match of the season always brought them out - especially with two very competitive teams. _ Well, competitive now that he’d taken over as Seeker. _

Draco was feeling very on his game, practicing a complicated series of box patterns interspersed with corkscrews, when he noticed a curious cessation of sound from the Gryffindor side of the stands, which were usually loutishly rowdy. He looped around to see what was going on … and stopped dead. 

In the absolute _ sea _ of red (Gryffindors unfailingly wore their house colors even when they weren’t competing) there was a single, solitary bloom of deep, Slytherin green making its way toward the front row. 

He could tell right away it was Granger. For one thing she gave him a little wave as she settled in the middle of the row between the Weaselette and Longbottom. He could tell she was grinning when she saw him see her. Then she stood up and her grin widened as she exaggeratedly turned around and looked over her shoulder. 

_Merlin, Salazar and fucking Morgana_ _she was WEARING HIS JERSEY!!_ \- the stark white letters spelling out M-A-L-F-O-Y across her slender shoulders. She must have nicked it from his rooms the night before! And she had effectively silenced the entirety of the Gryffindor stands. Draco felt an insane bubble of proud laughter rise up in his throat. What a _fucking_ masterstroke. 

He streaked over to her in an approach so fast that she dropped back into her seat in surprise. Stopping on a pin, he pulled up in front of her, the breeze ruffling his hair. He pushed up his goggles and swept his gaze over her body as suggestively as he could. It was easy since she was wearing the tight muggle jeans _ with _ his jersey - a particularly nice touch. 

“Looking good, Granger,” he finally said after several beats. The stands, which had gotten cautiously noisy since she first sat down, had gone totally silent again. She stood up and leaned over the railings toward him, crooking her finger. With a neat bit of precision flying he edged up until he was right next to her. _ What was she going to do next? _

When he was close enough to touch, she reached out, slid her hand around his neck and put her lips to his ear, “Good luck,” she whispered in a low, teasing voice. Draco heard the distinct sound of a flashbulb go off somewhere behind them. Oh _ fuck _ yes, this was definitely good enough for the _ Prophet _ . Weasley was going to have a _ fit _. Draco dearly hoped the back of her jersey was in the frame as well as her arse in those tight jeans. 

He laughed softly, “Well-played, Granger.” 

Somewhere in the distance an insistent whistle was blowing and Draco could hear the captains shouting for their teams. 

He raised his eyebrows and shot her a last grin, then lowered his goggles and sped away, chuckling to himself. The Weasel wasn’t just going to have a fit - he was going to burst a blood vessel. _ And so was fucking Theo. _

~oOo~

Granger waited for him after the match, which he thought was rather sweet. And it was surprisingly erm, _ invigorating _, to walk back up to the castle with her next to him in his jersey. A lot of people were watching them, so he laced his fingers through hers. 

“That was inspired,” he smiled down at her pointing his chin toward the shirt. “I’m impressed.” 

“I expect we’ll dominate the gossip columns.” 

“Oh, I think we have a shot at the front page. Especially after my breathtaking catch.” He could actually_ feel _ the smugness of his grin.

She snorted and looked away. “My congratulations on that.”

“Thank you.” The win had been the icing on what was rapidly becoming an _ exceptional _week. 

“Will there be a victory party tonight? It was bad of Slughorn to hold the Slug Club do the same night as the match.” 

“Mmm, I’m sure he was trying to take advantage of the fact that all the bigwigs are here from London. And there will definitely be a party in the dungeons. But it will go late.” 

“Should I plan on attending?”

Draco regarded her with tilted head, “Yes, I rather think so. Too bad you can’t wear that.” 

Granger laughed. “I _ would _ if it weren’t for Slug Club. You know I would.” 

Draco laughed. She totally would. 

They had arrived at the castle and Granger turned toward the stairs to Gryffindor tower. “Ok I’ll meet you outside Slughorn’s in an hour and a bit. And here, you’d better have this back.” She reached up to take off his jersey, but it caught on the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing underneath, pulling it up. 

“Oh, let me help,” he said, putting his hands on her waist to hold the top down. His fingers brushed the bare skin of her stomach and he saw her shiver. 

“Thanks,” she sounded flustered as she finished pulling the jersey over her head. 

He cleared his throat. “So. See you in a bit?” 

“Soundsgoodseeyouthen!” she turned and skipped up the steps to the tower. 

~oOo~ 

Draco kicked his heels outside of Slughorn’s chambers waiting for Granger to show up. She was a bit late, which was unlike her.

“Draco!” a breathless call behind him and he spun to see her come careering around the corner, “Sorry I’m late! Couldn’t decide what to wear.” 

He felt a smile cross his face totally involuntarily, “well I like what you decided on.” He hadn’t meant to say that. But she _ did _look bloody fit in a long sleeved velvet dress that happened to be seriously short. Her legs were fantastic. 

“Uh, thanks. Ok, so our plan. That we made. Let’s go over it.” 

Draco squinted at her. Something was off. She was a strange mix of clipped and sort of … loose? 

“Okay,” he agreed, still staring. 

“So we circul. Cirlucate. Circulate - together.” 

“Are you all right, Granger?” 

“_ HerMIone _ . I told you before.” She hiccuped. “Now are Thase and Bl...” She stopped and slowly closed then opened her eyes, “ _ Blaise and Theo _. Going to be here…?” 

He leaned down to her level and held up his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up?” 

She batted him away. “What are you doing, m’fine.” 

Then, as he leaned closer to check her pupils, he caught a whiff of her breath. 

Pure grain alcohol. 

“Granger, are you pissed!?” Draco couldn’t stop himself starting to chuckle. He now noticed that she was weaving the tiniest bit as she glared up at him. 

“I am not pissed. I had a couple of drinks with the girls before I came down s’all.” 

He was grinning down at her. “Which girls?”

“Lavender.” 

“Oh the school’s biggest lush? What did you drink? How many?” 

“Vodka.” She lifted her chin and tried to look down her nose at him, which was funny because he had about a foot on her. “I had three or four small ones.” 

“Three or four _ shots _?? Granger, that’s a lot for someone your size!” 

“It’s a very clear, pure sort of drink though. Don’t you think?” 

He laughed outright at this. “Uh huh, let’s go in and get some food in you. It’s going to be a long night with lots of _ opportunity _for us. I don’t want you passing out early.” He pointed at her then bopped her on the nose. She giggled. “Crikey, you really are pissed,” he muttered as they passed through the door. 

With the help of several pies and a cup or two of strong tea, Granger managed to move from ‘hammered’’ to ‘mellow and friendly’ fairly quickly. It was actually rather amusing trailing around behind her, keeping her from letting Sluggy and his old, handsy friends get over-familiar. 

She made great headway with everyone, receiving at least three job offers, an invitation to speak at some obscure dueling organisation and, from Slughorn, a promise of ‘extra-credit’ if the two of them would brew him more dreamless sleep potion. Several approving glances and comments were even directed his way and Draco felt bathed in a glow of approbation, which was nice because this kind of crowd were usually right arseholes to him these days. The Golden Girl effect was real. 

It also didn’t hurt that Theo was at the party (a new initiate to the Slug Club now that he was independently filthy rich) and shooting angry glares at them all night. Draco made sure to stay very physically close to Granger, often touching her waist or the small of her back. Whispering in her ear … and making eye contact with his best friend every time he did it. 

Eventually, Draco looked around and realized the party had wound down. Slughorn was holding court for a group of old wizards near the fire and one blowsy witch was actually asleep in her chair. Granger was in animated conversation with a Ravenclaw about memorization aides but Draco managed to pry her away. 

“Time to head to the dungeons,” he said with a wink. Theo swept up behind them, his face looking worryingly shifty. 

“Yes, let’s,” he crooned. 

Draco felt his brows draw together. _ Why the change of mood - what was the little git up to _?

“Ok,” said Granger, “Lilian, let’s find some time to compare flashcards!” she called to the Ravenclaw as Draco practically dragged her out of the door. 

~oOo~ 

They made their way to the Slytherin common room, Granger chatting about memory pathways and brain sections as they walked. But Draco was distracted by Theo, who was _ whistling _. Draco shot him a dirty look. Theo just raised his brows and smiled. 

Approaching the ornate entryway to the dungeons, they were assaulted by the sound of loud, bumping techno music. The victory party had obviously reached the stage of mindless rave/piss-up, with groups of bodies writhing to the music on the dancefloor - actually just the common room with all the furniture pushed against the walls. Lights swept across the dark space and a seventh year who moonlighted as a rather well-known London DJ, was holding court on a raised dais at the front of the room. He saw Draco come in and threw a spotlight on him, then put on a song that consisted of an incredibly loud guitar riff overlaid with insane victory whoops. Draco had a split second to think, “_ oh shite _,” before the crowd went absolutely mental and he was swamped by bodies. 

It was rather gratifying. 

He tried to keep Granger in his sights as he was being swept to the centre of the dancefloor. She was still with Theo at the edge of the crowd, grinning and laughing at the display. When he caught her eye, she winked and blew him a kiss, an expression blooming over her face that he couldn’t quite place. He felt a rather idiotic grin spread across his own face in response. _ She must still be drunk. _ Or maybe _ he _ was drunk. Everyone in this fucking crowd was definitely drunk. 

After that, Draco lost track of her, but then got serious about fighting his way out, finally making it to the edge of the room. Granger and Theo were now nowhere to be seen. Blaise and Parkinson and all of the other 8th years also seemed to be missing. That meant a private party somewhere. Draco headed down the hall and found them in the nicest of the smaller parlours, the 8th years’ unofficial common room. 

Everyone was there - Blaise and Theo leaning against the fireplace, Pansy and Daphne sharing an armchair, Granger arrayed attractively on a floor cushion and, surprisingly, the Weaselette sitting with Longbottom on the green velvet sofa. 

“All hail the conquering hero,” Pansy drawled as Draco stepped through the doorway. Granger’s head whipped around and Draco caught that_ look _again. He dropped into the unoccupied armchair to hide his own expression, which he knew Pansy would exploit if she noticed. 

“Amazing catch,” the Weaselette lifted her chin in his direction. Coming from her it was quite a compliment, although he’d never let on. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, then accepted a rather large firewhiskey from Blaise with a nod. “Were you all just waiting around for my arrival?” 

Several derisive replies met this remark, but Theo’s voice rose above the din. “_ No _. We were just about to play a game.” 

_ Oh for fuck’s sake, Theo _. This must be his big plan that had him whistling and looking so smug.

“Exploding snap? Draughts?”

“Truth or Dare,” Theo said theatrically. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“I know,” said Pansy, seeing his reaction. “But the Gryffindors were bragging about their daring ability. So we got curious.” 

He snorted again. Gryffindor dares? Probably involved a lot of forced nudity and awkward dancing. They had no idea what they were in for. 

“Everyone have a drink?” Theo’s avid glance swept the room. “I’ll go first, naturally.” He tapped his chin and looked around the room. Granger snickered.

“Hermione.” He snapped his head in her direction. “Truth or dare?”

Granger looked back at him for a bare second, then narrowed her eyes. “Dare.” 

“Okaaay,” Theo regarded her for a moment, looking like the cat that had got the cream. He glanced at Draco right before he said, “I dare you to sit on Draco’s lap. For the rest of the night.” 

A burst of surprised titters and giggles greeted his words, but Granger just shrugged and said, “Ok,” then popped up off her cushion and stood over him with a funny little smile, “may I?” 

Draco looked up at her from under his brows and wondered how _ the fuck _ he was going to keep himself from getting er, over-stimulated - with her pert little arse in that short little dress wiggling all over his... _ Shite _ . Theo was _ such _ a fucker. But it wouldn’t do to show fear. So he just opened his arms and smirked. “Please do.” 

She dropped down gracefully and looped her arm around the back of his shoulders then looked brightly out at the group. “My turn?”

“Yes,” Theo grumbled and Draco was gratified to see him disgruntled at how comfortable they seemed. If this was his big gambit to throw them off, he was in for a surprise. Granger was up to every trick. 

She sat up and Draco groaned inwardly - this was going to be torture. “Neville.” 

The tall boy on the couch coughed and glanced around. “Uh, dare?” 

“I dare you... to walk out of here and ask out the first seventh or eigth year girl you see.” 

A deep blush washed up Longbottom’s neck and over his face. He blew out a huge sigh, “Shite, Hermione.” Granger giggled and leaned back against Draco’s chest, resting her head on his shoulder. He could feel her hair tickle his neck. 

“Oh come on, Longbottom,” cut in Pansy’s smoky voice. “It’s not like they’ll say no.” Draco raised his brows at his ex and she gave him a look back, “What? He’s gotten gorgeous and he’s a fucking hero. Plus all that working outside, digging in the dirt,” her eyes swung back to Longbottom, “Mmm...” 

Longbottom was staring at Pansy with his mouth hanging open and everyone else was laughing. Granger made a little shooing motion toward the door and he went, still looking over his shoulder at the dark-haired witch. 

“You got a crush, Pans?” Blaise snickered after he left. 

“Maybe,” she replied. “Jealous?” 

“Never.” Draco laughed along with the rest of them as Pansy made a rude gesture at Blaise. 

Granger turned her head and whispered in his ear, “Didn’t see that coming.”

He laughed softly, “I know.” 

Her lips brushed near his ear again and Draco concentrated very hard on anything other than the sensation her breath over his skin caused, as she whispered, “you know we should actually thank Theo. This is a perfect set-up.” 

_ Yes, perfect for him to get a raging hard-on _. But he just chuckled and nodded. 

“In fact,” her voice trailed off as she shifted - _ fuck _ \- closer to him. And then Draco froze as he felt her clever little fingers start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She was _ stroking _ him. Sweetly, a bit possessively, as she smiled innocently at Theo, who was frowning at them. _ Fuckfuckfuckfuck _. 

Luckily at that moment Longbottom returned and took Granger’s attention off her erotic torture. Her fingers stilled and she directed an inquiring look at Neville.

If possible, he looked even more shocked than when he left. “She said yes.” 

“Told you,” said Pansy, throwing a predatory smile in his direction. “Who was it?”

“A seventh year? Pretty. Said her name was Giselle?” 

“Nice work,” Pansy winked at him. “Your turn.” 

Neville’s panicked glance darted around, “ahh, Daphne?”

“Truth.” She sounded bored, but then didn’t she always? 

“Ummmm… Who’s your secret crush?”

“Oh my god Neville, are we in 3rd year?” The Weaselette just shook her head at her friend. 

“No, no that’s actually a good one for Daph,” said Blaise with a distinct gleam in his eye. Draco agreed - if Theo had set up the game right, all players would be compelled to tell the truth.

Daphne looked at her fingernails. “Chang.” 

Draco was impressed at her ability to still seem utterly bored. He was having extreme trouble being calm himself, as Granger had recommenced her stroking. She really seemed to like his hair. 

Longbottom sat up, his eyes wide. “Chang, as in Cho Chang?” Daphne nodded once and the room erupted. Pansy tittered and the Weaselette shouted something. Granger was nodding along and smiling and Draco thought he saw Theo, who looked fucked off, slip Blaise, who looked extremely pleased, a bill of some sort. 

“Ok, ok,” Draco cut through the noise. “No big surprises there. Your turn, Daph.”

Daphne chose Pansy, who chose dare. Daphne, in the same disinterested tone, ordered Pansy to demonstrate a proper blow job technique on a banana, one of Pansy’s favourite party tricks. She complied with relish, making eye contact with Longbottom the entire time. Giselle (_ not to mention Longbottom _) didn’t stand a chance. 

Granger sat up and followed along eagerly, which practically did Draco’s head in. Then she picked that moment to whisper, “you should do something to me - next time Theo glances over.” She sounded a little breathless, which did nothing to help his situation. 

As if on cue, Theo’s glare swung their way, so Draco mentally recited Quidditch scores from the 1991-92 season as he swept his hand down Granger’s waist, over her arse, down her leg and back up in a slow, rhythmic motion. 

Granger made a sound, something between a sigh and a moan, then stretched languorously and burrowed closer to his body. _ Fuuuuuck. _ He frantically tried to remember the recipe for the Draught of Living Peace, including order of ingredients, number of times each had to be stirred and in what direction. Despite that, he felt his traitorous body mold to hers too and then somehow he had leaned into her neck and was smelling her hair. 

Pansy finally finished, biting the tip off the banana with a snap of her teeth, and turning in his direction. “Break it up, you two. Draco hasn’t gone yet.” 

She looked the question at him and he cleared his throat and answered quickly, “dare.” It would _ not _ be good to give his ex girlfriend the ability to make him tell the truth about anything she wanted.

Pansy’s eyes brightened and she leaned forward … then dared him to walk everyone through his pussy-eating technique. 

Draco felt Granger completely freeze as the words left Pansy’s mouth and the rest of the room erupted into a round of whistles, gasps and laughter. 

“What?” Pansy looked around. “He’s really good at it and I’m sure some of you could use some coaching.” 

Draco was just fixedly staring at her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. _ For fucks SAKE _. This is what he got for agreeing to play this stupid game with her of all people. Well, one thing he knew is that he couldn’t do this with Granger on his lap. So he politely but firmly set her aside and walked to the front of the room, where he conjured a blackboard and chalk. 

The little presentation quickly turned academic, with Longbottom and Weaselette calling out questions and Daphne getting up to provide corroborative demonstration at one point. Theo and Blaise tried to lounge in a knowing way against the fireplace, but by the end they were leaning forward and following along intently. Draco very pointedly did not let himself look at Granger once the entire time, but he sensed her rapt attention and silent focus. Finally, he sat down to polite applause. 

Granger stayed seated on her cushion, staring a bit dazedly at the floor, so he reached out his hand to her. 

“Aren’t you coming back?” 

She looked up at him and when her gaze landed on his face, the most brilliant bloom of pink washed over her cheeks and down her neck. Draco had to admit it was fucking adorable. She swallowed and glanced around, didn’t say a word, then came back and perched gently back on his lap. 

For some reason, Draco’s little demonstration had quite relaxed him and he pulled her back against him, muttering, “all right there, Granger?” She took a deep breath and a deep drink of her whisky then shook her head and smiled at him.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” 

He grinned back and she seemed to relax, settling against him again and laughing softly.

“Gods, where do we go from there?” chuckled Longbottom, sounding like he was trying to end the night. 

“Oh, it’s my turn,” said Draco decisively and turned a gimlet stare to the group. “_Theodore_. I don’t believe we’ve seen you in action tonight. Truth or Dare?”

The next couple of hours were a blur of hilarity. Draco’s dare was for Theo to give the Weaselette a lap dance - _ payback is a bitch, Nott _. Then Theo asked Ginny who in the room she most wanted to sleep with (It had been Daphne, but had switched to Theo after his surprisingly agile performance). Theo’s grin at that had been extremely large and Draco reminded himself to tell Nott that he actually owed him one. 

Then the Weaselette dared Longbottom to kiss Pansy, which had quickly gotten x-rated. When they could be separated, Longbottom dared Blaise to fly down to the lake, strip, jump in and fly back. _ And there was the forced nudity… Gryffindors _. 

After she got over her shock, Granger re-commenced wiggling and sliding over Draco’s lap - whispering funny little remarks in his ear, brushing his neck with her lips and putting her hands just_ all over _him. It was agony. His balls were bluer than the fucking Ravenclaw common room and he no longer needed to revise for his potions NEWT. When everyone ran out of the parlour to watch Blaise, he had welcomed the chance to get up again. 

Drifting back after the extremely entertaining display (the lake water must have been _ cold _) he and Granger arrived to an empty parlour, Blaise having stayed in the common room to talk to a pretty girl who had admired his stunt, and the others having fucked off to who knows where - although Draco would have laid money on the fact that Longbottom was getting a very skillful blowjob right about now. Lucky git. 

He turned to Granger and raised his brows. She smiled up at him. _ Gods she was pretty. _ And they were now totally alone. Draco felt himself lean toward her and it occurred to him suddenly that he wished they weren’t doing this stupid bet. He wished he could just do what he really wanted after all of that build-up, namely kiss her senseless and invite her to his room. But would she welcome that? Or had everything been just for show? He truly didn’t know. She was that good at the game. 

But she _ was _ looking at him with dark, liquid eyes and she seemed to be swaying toward him. It didn’t have to mean anything, did it? They could just be two people who were attracted to each other... Draco’s head lowered toward hers… then stopped. _ Swaying _ ? Wait.She’d been drinking pretty steadily since they’d left Sluggys. Was she pissed again? _ That would explain a lot. _ He took a deep breath and stepped back. Time to do the right thing, even though it pained him. 

“It’s late. I’ll walk you back to the tower.” 

She nodded - _ was that disappointment on her face? _ -and they turned to go, walking in silence through the dark castle. Draco felt like he should take her hand or something, but there was no one around to perform for. Finally they reached the Gryffindor portrait hole. 

She turned toward him and smiled. “I actually had a lot of fun today.” 

Draco realized with surprise that he had too. He’d spent almost the entirety of this extremely long day with her - their stunt on the Quidditch pitch seemed ages ago now - and had a great time. “Yeah, it was epic,” he said with a soft laugh. “Remember to watch for the paper tomorrow.” 

“I will.” She looked at him for a moment before turning and slipping through the entryway. He heard her soft goodnight echo in the hall as she disappeared. 

~oOo~ 

Next morning Draco woke late with a bad headache. He cursed firewhiskey then slumped down to the great hall to catch the last of breakfast. Several heads popped up and a few grins shot his way as he sat down. He realized the reason why when he saw someone’s discarded Daily Prophet unfolded on the table next to him. 

They had, indeed, made the front page. 

The snap was taken at the perfect moment, when she had pulled him close, her body twisting in such a way that the name on the back of her jersey was revealed just at the end of the looping clip. It looked like she may have been telling him something or may have been kissing him - either way it was undeniably hot. He bet they’d sold a lot of papers. 

He realized he was grinning stupidly at the image and whipped his head up toward the Gryffindor table. She was there - also looking tired - but also smiling down at the open paper. She looked up and saw him looking at her, then raised her brows. He winked in return, then realized it would probably look strange for them not to sit together. 

That was how he came to be next to her, laughing at her description of the Weaselette sneaking back into the dorm that morning in her clothes from the night before, when a large barn owl swooped into the room and dropped something in her lap. 

It was a bright red envelope and it was already smoking. 

Granger’s panicked glance flew to his, but he was already pulling her up and towing her out of the dining hall. Who the fuck knew what this could be, but it wasn’t going to be good. Probably some wingnut who wanted to scream at her about being a death-eater whore. 

They’d just made it out the door and into an empty classroom - Draco hastily muttering a silencing charm - as the thing burst open, flames licking at the edges of the envelope. 

Instantly _ the Weasel’s _voice filled the room, booming off the walls in rolling waves. Draco was so furious and surprised that he barely heard the words. He could make out a few things, ‘death-eater whore’ was definitely in there. Also, ‘thought you were better than that’, ‘ashamed’, ‘disgrace to Gryffindor House’, ‘hope you were imperiused’, ‘absolutely disgusting’, ‘coming to Hogwarts to sort you out’. 

Granger had turned away at the first words and her back was to him, but he could see her rigid posture and curled fists. When the self-righteous echoes finally died away, Draco approached her slowly and placed a light hand on her shoulder. 

“Are you ok?” 

She whipped around and _ fuck _, Draco was never more glad that he wasn’t the Weasel. She was absolutely incandescent with rage. Her face white and set, her eyes snapping hot fire. Draco could actually feel her magic pulsing off of her. Something was definitely about to get broken. Probably the Weasel’s head. 

“That MOTHERFUCKER! How DARE he send me a howler. When he’s plastered all over the paper with his SKANKS! I. WILL. END. HIM.” Her jaw was clenched so tightly that barely any vowels made it out of her mouth. 

How Draco got her out of the classroom and relatively calm, he didn’t rightly know. It involved a lot of soothing words, a trip to the library and a promise to let her organize his NEWT study schedule for the next six months. 

Finally when she was able to breathe and speak normally, she thanked him. 

“Now,” she cracked her neck and looked at him with a rather frightening gleam in her eye, “what about next week?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am a music nerd, I just wanted to make a small note that the song that plays when the DJ sees Draco enter the party is Blur Song 2, which came out just a year or so before the events of this story.


	5. Week Four

**Week 4**

Whistling as he jogged up the stairs to meet Granger, Draco reviewed their progress so far, conceding that he was quite happy. Theo was almost totally convinced of their legitimacy, his only riposte to a recent taunt of Draco’s a weak, ‘well we’ve yet to see if she’ll let you get in her knickers.” 

To which Blaise had just shaken his head and muttered “did you _ see _ her during his little demonstration Saturday night? It’s only a matter of time, mate.” 

Draco had whipped around to look at Blaise, arrested, and Theo had just shrugged and looked unconcerned, his recent liaison with the Weaselette having made him very mellow and happy of late. _ Regular shagging would do that to a bloke _ . Which reminded Draco that his situation in that department was really rather dire. He’d had all the build-up and none of the release (other than _ a lot _ of wanking) and it was taking its toll. 

He shook his head to clear it. Wouldn’t do to start a whole day with Granger in that frame of mind.

According to the schedule, today was their ‘romantic date’, meant to show how they were actually falling for each other in a lovey-dovey sort of way. Granger thought it was a crucial set-up for the Winter Ball dance floor kiss that was going to get them the extra 5k and Draco agreed. 

They’d gone back and forth, but eventually settled on Madam Puddifoot’s as the most public and obvious choice for such an outing. Draco sniffed, if he were planning a_ real _romantic date, he wouldn’t be so pedestrian. He’d take Granger flying. Head out across the lake, over the peaks and to a beautiful, private glen he’d discovered in 3rd year. They’d bring a picnic, lay in the grass for hours, find creative ways to keep each other warm... 

_ For fuck’s sake, _he really needed to snap out of it. And/or get laid.

Just then he heard his name and saw Granger tripping down the steps to the entry hall. _ Great _. She looked beautiful in a patterned jumper and fucking adorable knit hat. Of course she did. 

Draco forcibly put away his bad temper and greeted her cordially. She took his arm, chatting brightly and he felt himself relax. She always seemed to have that effect on him. They turned their steps toward the village and in what seemed like a very short time, had reached the door of the tea room. 

“Ready?” she looked up at him and took a deep breath. 

He nodded once and held the door for her, then followed her in … to an absolute_ fucking _ nightmare. The room was dark and close, stuffed with simpering couples. Doilies and hearts and paintings of kittens and knick knacks and furbelows covered every surface. The temperature was stiflingly hot and the smell of old rose petals overwhelming. Draco’s nose twitched and he felt the beginnings of a sneezing attack. 

This was going to be_ awful _. 

But then Granger muttered something that sounded distinctly like, “_ Oh hell no _,” grabbed his hand and steered them right back out the door. 

He looked at her, brows raised, as they stood in the street. 

“Nope,” she said. “Let’s go back to the Broomsticks. I can be much more romantic there than in that utter hellscape.” 

“Granger,” said Draco fervently, taking her by the shoulders and feeling a smile bloom over his face, “I have never liked you more than I do at this _ exact _ moment.” 

She laughed out loud and it struck Draco suddenly that he really _ did _ like her. Quite a lot. 

Oh_ bollocks. _


	6. Week Five

**Week 5**

Since Draco had realized that his feelings for Granger weren’t just for show, it had made their little charade that much more excruciating to bear - particularly because he had no idea of how she felt about him.

The rest of their ‘romantic’ date had gone swimmingly. They’d gotten a booth at the 3 Broomsticks this time, and instead of sitting across from him, Granger had slid in next to him - then proceeded to invade his personal space in the most stimulating ways over the several hours they spent in the pub. 

They’d laughed and chatted and even gotten serious, talking about the war and its aftermath. Draco had tried to apologise for certain things that occurred, although Granger had waved him off - “The more I consider it, the more I realise we were just pawns in the adults’ game, Draco. Harry, Ron, me and especially you.” That one small comment had made him feel better than  _ hours  _ of ministry-mandated therapy.

And then that had segued into a very invigorating debate about whether rehabilitation should be part of the wizarding criminal justice system (Granger - pro, Malfoy - con, which he thought was rather interesting considering he was the one with the immediate family member in prison), which led to a lively discussion of efficacy of a dementor’s kiss as a deterrent to criminal behavior (Granger - no, Malfoy -  _ fuck _ yes). 

To some it might not seem romantic, but to him, half yelling at her that she was a delusional idealist while she snapped that he was ‘a cynical prat who needed to read the research’, was extremely stimulating. He didn’t have to fake the warmth in his gaze or his desire to touch her - put his arm around her - nuzzle into her fragrant hair... 

And at some point, after a few pints, she had said something about him being,”distractingly attractive,” which he had rather liked. 

“But don’t let it go to your head, Draco,” she had laughed, wagging her finger at him. He’d  _ really _ wanted to kiss her then. 

Then Theo and the Weaselette had shown up and joined them, which had been ...fun, actually. They’d all gotten pissed and walked back to the castle together in the dim light of late afternoon, their breath blowing clouds in the cold December air. And when it had been time to say goodbye Theo had obligingly stuck around, which gave Draco an excuse to pull Granger into an alcove and complete their second public snogging session requirement, an extremely satisfying interlude. She’d seemed to like it too, although he did still wonder what she’d do if he tried it when they didn’t have an audience. 

That was the fucking rub, wasn’t it? 

Because during the last week he’d actually gotten to kiss her a few times - or she had kissed him. But always when someone was there to see. Although a tiny voice in his head did hopefully suggest that Granger may actually  _ looking _ for opportunities. Like when she had basically thrown him against the wall Wednesday on their way to Potions because she said she saw Theo at the end of the hallway. Draco couldn’t see him at all - not that he had been complaining. But really, they didn’t need to convince Theo that they were hot for each other anymore. 

They just needed to convince him that they’d shagged. 

Which brought him here, to today, readying his room for their fake sexual encounter - the performance of which would surely be a sore trial for his already over-stimulated person. 

The plan was basic. Draco knew the Weaselette had Quidditch practice tonight, so he’d invited Theo and Blaise round for drinks, mentioning an old and rare bottle of whisky as an inducement. But of course, when the two wizards arrived, the door would be locked, the room would be ‘accidentally’ unsilenced and he and Granger would be inside putting on a show - or more accurately, a concert. 

Draco magicked his bed away from the wall a bit, pulled a chair out then pushed it back in, peered out the window, looked at the clock. She would be here any minute. Just then a soft knock landed on his door. He opened it … and his jaw dropped to the floor. 

It was Granger, of course. But what the  _ hell  _ was she wearing?? His brain registered that it was short -  _ very _ short - some kind of full skirt with lacing at the waist like a fucking corset. And, just to  _ completely _ finish him off, thigh-high bloody stockings. This was going to make it  _ so  _ much harder. He adjusted his face as quickly as he could, but she’d caught his look. 

“What!?” she said testily as she stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her. 

“Your outfit … are you trying to  _ actually _ seduce me?” He accompanied his words with what he hoped was a disarming smile.

“ _ Ha _ . It was Ginny’s idea. In case Blaise or Theo see me leaving. To make it believable. It’s not my usual style, I know. A little over the top.” She twisted around and peered down at herself. 

“No, but you look fantastic.”  _ Oops _ . Although, fuck it - he liked her now, didn’t he? Might as well say what he was thinking. 

She blushed and her eyes widened. “Really? Thank you. I was never sure I could pull off ‘sex kitten’.”

“No, you’re excelling as usual, Granger. Top marks.” 

She laughed and any tension there had been seemed to dissipate. 

He clapped his hands.“OK. So they’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” 

They got busy going over their roles and snickering at her notes from their first planning session - which seemed like a fucking _ long _ time ago. Draco couldn’t believe how much better he knew her now. And in fact, when she slyly pulled out a flask and asked if he’d like to loosen up a bit before they started, he wasn’t even shocked.

They each took a couple of swallows, then Granger rolled an extendable ear just under the door so they could hear when Theo and Blaise arrived. 

“So you’re really going to be able to make this sound believable?” Draco squinted at her. He knew  _ he  _ was up for the challenge… but - he realized he didn’t even know if she’d ever slept with anyone.

“Uh,  _ yes. _ ” She shot him a dirty look.  _ Ok, so she probably wasn’t a virgin. _ The fucking Weasel was a lucky bastard (in that one very specific regard). “I mean, I’ve…” she nodded quickly her face flushing again, “you know, I’ve. And there’s also this really famous scene in a muggle film. It’s one of my favourite films. So even if I hadn’t, I’d know what to do.” 

He held up his hands and smiled. “I trust you, Granger.” 

Just then they heard footsteps, then the voices of their quarry. Her eyes widened and flew to his. Then she drained the flask, squared her shoulders and moaned his name. _ Loud. _

Draco’s cock, obviously not having gotten the memo that none of this was real, jumped to attention. He told it sternly to stand down and concentrated on putting on a convincing performance. Which was more difficult than he thought it would be, mostly because Granger kept coming perilously close to cracking up. Especially when Draco did things like pound his fist against the door or magick his headboard to knock against the wall. 

It  _ was _ rather funny, though. Especially when she bounced on the bed and punctuated every jump with a “Fuck! Me!” 

Then after she climbed down, he began slapping his thigh, simulating spanking her while grinning hugely. Her mouth flew open and she shook her finger at him, mouthing “you ARSEhole!” 

After that she started actively trying to get back at him, moaning ridiculous things like “ _ Oh daddy, YES _ !” Or at one point, “I _ don’t think I can, Draco - it’s too BIG!! _ ” 

Then she got right up next to the door (he could totally  _ hear _ those two fucking perverts right there listening) and asked breathily if he was going to come on her tits or her arse, “ _ because either one is fine with me, baby. _ ” Draco had to actually bite his lip to keep from laughing. 

Finally, before they got too ridiculous and blew their cover, he gave a little wrap it up motion and she nodded, then launched into a very credible simulation of a gratifyingly intense orgasm. He again had to explain to his cock that it wasn’t real - and made a mental note to check out that muggle film. 

When she was finished, she said something about having a shower “so I can wash all this off of me.” He glared at her and she put her tongue out at him, then ducked into his loo. He mussed his hair, unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his belt then opened the bedroom door with a yank. 

Sticking his head out, he saw Blaise and Theo jump theatrically away and then try to lounge nonchalantly about the hall.

“What are you gits doing here?” Draco tried for ‘breathless and distracted’. 

“We were supposed to meet you, you arsehole.” Oh  _ good _ , Theo sounded shirty.

“Oh. Right. Well, sorry - a little busy right now.” He yanked his head back toward his room and raised his brows. 

“And who have you got in there, Draco?” Blaise asked with a lazy grin at Theo, who looked daggers back at him. 

Just then from over his shoulder, Granger’s voice. “Draco, what are you  _ doing _ ? If you want your cock sucked before I leave, we’re going to need to start on these Potions notes.” 

Draco felt his face go very still as Theo’s eyes got round as saucers and Blaise started laughing. “I’ll see you two later,” he said, then shut the door with a snap. 

Turning around, Draco quickly silenced the room so he and Granger could finally give in to their laughter. He fell against his bedpost in a total fit of mirth.

“Gods, you should have seen Theo’s face just now,” he gasped when he could speak again. 

“I had a really hard time saying that without totally losing it.” Granger leaned against the door, also helpless with laughter. 

“Think about me! I was actually face to face with them!” He wiped tears from his eyes then pushed off the bed post and toward her, tilting his head and squinting, “did you manage to rinse off?” 

She lifted her chin and pulled at her neckline, “let me know if I missed a spot.” 

Draco felt his smile fade from his face as he looked down at her.

Fuck. It occurred to him that they were standing only inches apart. In his silenced bedroom - him half undressed and her in thigh-high fucking  _ stockings,  _ pulling her neckline out and basically inviting him to look at her tits. 

He felt himself get very focused on her upturned face - especially her pretty mouth, which had so recently been making the most provocative sounds. 

Their eyes locked - hers went dark and the laughter slowly drained from her expression. Time seemed to stop and she kept her gaze on his as her small white teeth emerged to bite her lower lip. 

Draco inhaled and blinked. He felt himself draw toward her, his head angling down.  _ Would she stop him? _

_ No _ , it seemed she wouldn’t. Because those were her fingers reaching out to brush his chest. Stroking across the bare skin under his unbuttoned shirt as if she couldn’t help herself. He exhaled,  _ fucking hell, _ then stepped against her, seeking her lips at the same moment she reached up to capture his. 

Her hands tightened around his waist and back, her thumbs still stroking him and his hands went to her hair, sliding into the glossy mass, pulling her to him even as he pushed her against the door. Their tongues met - tentatively and then hungrily - and Draco gave in to a wave of pure, ragged desire. He angled her head back and moved his lips to her neck, tasting her skin. And then she half whispered, half moaned his name and the real sound made the fake pale in comparison. 

Several lost moments passed and he was just about to spin her off the door and toward the bed when a loud rap landed sounded on the wood behind them, startling them apart. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Draco directed a look of fury at the innocuous panel. Pansy’s highly annoying drawl sounded from the other side, reminding him he’d told her he’d help her with a Transfiguration essay tonight. 

“Be there in a bit!” he shouted, keeping his eyes on Granger, whose cheeks had gone deep crimson. She slid out from under the cage of his arms and picked up her bag, then turned and inhaled. She seemed about to say something, but then she snapped her lips together. 

She tried again, “Right, I’ll…see you soon.” She ducked her head and reached for the doorknob. His arm shot out and blocked her. 

“Granger,” he started, but she pushed past him and slipped out into the hallway, head down, walking fast. 

He watched her go, but she didn’t look back. 


	7. Week Six

**Week 6**

The final week of their ‘collaboration’ had arrived and Draco was feeling… discombobulated. They seemed to have agreed to tacitly ignore the kiss - Granger had made a self-deprecating comment on Monday before Potions - something about ‘their admirable commitment to method acting’ and he had laughed, which seemed to be a signal to her that they could forget it ever happened. 

Not that he was necessarily on-board with that plan. He found the scene replaying in his mind rather a lot and imagined it would feature in wank fantasies for years to come. But he had taken her lead in public. And taken it as a sign that she really didn’t want to explore anything with him beyond winning the bet. For her it had obviously been a moment of weakness, rather than the start of something. 

Draco had to admit he found that thought fucking depressing, so, out of a sense of self-preservation, he tried to avoid her most of the week - rushing off after class, spending a lot of time on the pitch and generally holing up in his room. Creating distance was good. After all, post-Saturday night, they’d have no reason to socialize at all. 

By Friday she had seemed to notice, because she was throwing him frowns and worried looks and then actually ran him to ground after Ancient Runes and demanded with a significant glare that he meet her in the library later to ‘go over their Potions project’. 

He hadn’t seen any way to get out of it, so he’d said ok and turned his reluctant steps toward her usual study table, strongly reminded of that first night when he’d overheard her complaining to the Weaselette. 

This time she was alone, bathed in the soft light of a reading lamp, holding something and staring into space. 

“Cheerio, Granger.” Draco slid into a seat down the table from her. 

She started out of her reverie and squinted at him. “You know it’s been six weeks and you _ still _ haven’t called me Hermione once.” 

He lifted his brows, “sorry?” 

“No, it’s ok.” Her eyes rested on him for a bit and then her attention drifted back to her hand. It looked like she was holding a letter, and, judging by the haphazard handwriting, general sloppiness and surfeit of ink blots, Draco was fairly certain it was from the Weasel. 

She looked back up at him and he nodded toward it. 

“It’s from Ron,” she said with a sigh. _ Aha _. He kept his gaze steady - he was by no means going to pry anything Weasel-related out of her. “I wrote him,” she continued. “After the Howler. You can imagine what I said,” she gave a half laugh and Draco nodded. She might not have written a Howler back, but he was sure her letter practically had scorch marks on it anyway. 

“I figured that might be the end,” she mused, “of our friendship - our ‘relationship’, such as it was. I told him some rather hard truths.” She grimaced and Draco snorted. _ He bet she fucking did. _

Her eyes flicked up to him. “But he’s surprised me. Apparently he took everything I said to heart. He’s apologized. Promised to change. No more slags, no more messing around. He only wants me. He says he’s coming here tomorrow to talk in person about it. To ‘make his case’.” A little crease appeared between her brows.

Draco felt a cold rushing sensation. There was a curious buzzing between his ears that made his own voice sound far away when he said, “well congratulations, Granger. That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

She looked sharply at him then away. “I don’t know. I guess I always thought I’d be with him. Once he worked through all his distractions. But I...” 

“If he’s coming up tomorrow,” Draco interrupted, having to actively unclench his jaw to speak, “will we still be going to the ball together?” 

“Of course!” Her eyes flashed, “Ronald’s schedule does _ not _dictate my plans.” 

“Good to hear it. It would be a shame to quit after we’ve come this far.” He stood up and shoved out his chair. He suddenly needed to get out of there. 

“Draco?” she was getting up too, but he was already walking. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the portrait hole. Six o’clock,” he tossed over his shoulder, not waiting for her reply. 

~oOo~

Formal robes swirling around his ankles, Draco made his way up the steps toward Gryffindor Tower. The appointed hour had arrived - _ finally _ \- after a fucking _ long _night and day of moping, during which drinking, flying and even fucking with Theo over the bet he was soon to lose had failed to distract him from thoughts of Granger’s reunion with her ginger prat. 

He just wanted this night to be over so he could get on with his miserable life, continue the extended ass-fuck that was 8th year. 

Forget that there had ever been a bright spot in it. 

He rounded the corridor to the portrait hole, frowning mightily … and stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned.

Standing in profile was Granger, looking more ethereal and lovely than he’d ever seen her - or any witch - look. She was in a long gown of dull gold, her upper arms wrapped with a few slender cords that were spangled with golden stars and hung and drifted behind her. Her hair was up, but a few curls escaped down her elegant neck. She was glowing, the ‘golden girl’ personified. Even her magic seemed to crackle around her in a sparkling haze. 

Draco tried to find his voice, because she hadn’t noticed him yet, when the portrait hole opened and the fucking _Weasel _suddenly popped his head through. 

“Blimey, Hermione, you look incredible,” he gawped as his lanky frame fully emerged. Of Draco’s two warring instincts, the one to melt into the shadows won out over the one to rush up and plant a facer on the red-headed arse. 

“Ron, what are you doing here!?” Granger was irritated. “I told you I was going to the ball at six.” 

“With _ him_?” Disdain fairly dripped from the Weasel’s tongue. 

_ Yes with ME, you fucker! _Draco felt like shouting.

_ "Yes_, And I don’t want you hanging around causing conflict. He’ll be here any minute. He’s late in fact.” Granger frowned at a delicate muggle watch on her wrist.

“_Why_, Hermione? I mean, how _ could _you?” 

“We’ve been over this, Ronald. I have my reasons and they’re none of your damned business.” 

“I just don’t see what possible explanation there could be.”

“Well you’re not required to, are you? I’m certainly not accountable to you. And I said we would talk _ later. _ I’m busy now.”

“Later tonight?” The Weasel was really pleading - _ worthless git - _ and Granger hesitated, her posture tense. “ _ Please_, Hermione. This is really important. It’s why I rushed up here.” 

“You never asked me if this was a good time to come! But, all right. _ Fine_. The ball ends at 10. I’ll talk to you after that!” she said - a little desperately. “Now, LEAVE.” She put her hands on the Weasel’s back and pushed him at the portrait. He gave her a last look and then climbed back through. 

Draco waited until he was fully gone before taking a deep breath and striding toward her as if he hadn’t a care in the world. 

She heard his footsteps and whirled to face him, the dress drifting in a cloud around her. For a second, Draco thought her eyes lit. But then he told himself to stop being stupid. Hadn’t she just arranged to meet her boyfriend later tonight? But _ Merlin_, she was breathtaking. He couldn’t stop himself walking to within inches of her, taking her hand and kissing it. 

“So beautiful_._” 

_ Shite, had he said that out loud? _ He guessed he had because a huge smile bloomed over her face and she blushed. 

“Thank you.” Her smile turned coquettish. “You’re looking rather dazzling yourself.” 

He couldn’t help but grin back at her, like the idiot he was. 

But _fuck it, _ this was their last night together. He might as well enjoy it. Give her something to think about before she settled for the Weasel. Just savor her company - even if it would be bittersweet. 

On that highly uplifting thought, he gave her his arm and a raised brow, “ready to go win a bet?”

She looked at him for a beat then gave a funny little sigh. “Yes.” 

~oOo~

It was a mark of how much he enjoyed Granger that Draco was actually having a somewhat decent time at the dance. He usually hated these affairs. Probably because he’d been forced to take ballroom dancing lessons practically since infancy and had always loathed it. Plus the stuffy, cloying atmosphere and lack of booze. He much preferred the after-parties. 

But with her it was tolerable. In fact, it had been rather entertaining teaching her a few of the more obscure formal dances, which she’d pronounced ‘archaic and odd’. And then she’d got him up to a few of the faster muggle songs, which had been..._stimulating _ . Who knew girls like Granger would let you put your hands _and even your cock _on them like that - just in public? 

Seeing Theo mope around all night was mildly amusing too. He was obviously fucked off over the fact that he’d lost his World Cup box and was watching Draco and Granger like a hawk to see if he was also going to lose 5k. Even the Weaselette’s efforts on the dance floor couldn’t distract him totally. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. Draco stifled a sigh - they’d certainly done a thorough job.

Taking a break from the dancing, they made their way to the back of the room and stood together against the wall, watching the crowd. She noticed him looking at Theo and leaned over with a wicked grin, “he doesn’t look so hot, does he?” 

“No, he does not,” Draco couldn’t prevent a snort. 

She giggled. “You know, despite our victim’s discomfort, this whole thing has been a laugh.” 

He looked at her and nodded. “It has.” A laugh. _ Ha.ha. _ One could describe it that way. One could also describe it as a prolonged erotic torture followed by a sharp dose of heartache. But who was he to split hairs? 

“I mean, I definitely didn’t expect it to be,” she mused, watching the crowd. “I didn’t expect _ you _ at all,” her dark gaze rested back on him. 

He felt his face warm at her words and he started to speak - he knew _exactly _ what she meant - but at that moment Zabini suddenly appeared and offered to show them the way to a secret stash of spiked punch. Granger grabbed Draco’s hand and towed him away after Blaise, who led them to a group of rowdy 8th years. Then they’d been pulled into the crowd and promptly gotten separated. Draco found the high spirits didn’t quite match his shitty mood, so he’d removed himself after a while and found a quiet spot in which to brood. 

And now the evening was winding down. The poncy string band had packed up and the muggle-style DJ had slowed the tempo. Granger had been last seen making her way to the loo with her Ravenclaw study aid friend. Draco blew out a breath. What was she going to say to the Weasel later? Would he have to watch them paw all over each other tomorrow in the great hall? No he _ wouldn’t _ because he’d avoid it like the fucking plague… 

Suddenly a soft tap on his shoulder. He looked around and there she was. _ So fucking pretty_. 

“Would you like to dance?” her half smile was soft. 

“Is it time?” She nodded and he took her hand, letting her lead him to the floor. One song ended and another began as they reached the centre. The new one was slow, sultry and he pulled her against him. She smelled fucking incredible. For about the millionth time that night he wished they were really there together.

“Did you wear perfume tonight?” he asked. 

“Mmm hmm,” she looked up at him and slid her arms up over his shoulders, which pressed the full length of her body against him. _ Merlin_, but muggle dancing was intimate. “It’s gardenia. My favourite flower.” 

He leaned down to her neck, making eye contact with her as he inhaled deeply. “Lovely.” They were pressed so close he could actually feel her breath speed up. _ She wasn’t totally immune. _

He pulled his head back and gazed at her. “You know,” she said, smiling up at him, “we never actually made it to the astronomy tower.” 

He laughed softly, “Part 4, Section 2, Subhead d of your plan? I’m shocked you allowed us to deviate.” 

She wrinkled her nose and put her tongue out at him, “well, we didn’t need it, did we?” 

“No, we didn’t” _ Shite_, that had come out a lot more seriously than he’d intended.

Suddenly her face went very still and he felt her fingers drift into the hair at his nape in the now familiar, but no less devastating, way. He supposed this was the point at which he should kiss her, lock in the bet and walk away. He could even see Theo out of the corner of his eye - watching them as they swayed. 

Something made him hesitate, though - so when she went up on her tip-toes and pulled his neck down he was stupidly surprised. But he recovered quickly. Their lips met and it was as if all the passion, the pent up desire of weeks, flowed between them. They stopped dancing altogether and her hands went from his hair to his face, which she cradled as he pulled her even tighter against him. If they’d been alone, he would have raked into her hair and kissed down her neck to her gorgeous collarbone, pulled down the neckline of her dress and... 

But they weren’t alone, so he drew back softly, and with several sweet, smaller kisses, because he found it extremely difficult to come to terms with the fact that this was the last time he would feel her, taste her. 

Was there something stricken in her eyes too? He’d never know, because just then a rough hand grabbed him and spun him around. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Draco bit out, ice flooding his veins as he saw who it was. “Never fucking TOUCH ME.” 

“What the fuck are YOU doing!?” the Weasel snarled, his face contorted with rage 

“_RON_.” Granger’s tone was low, but absolutely furious. “I told you I would meet you later. You have no _ right _to come here and…”

“It _is _ later, Hermione - it’s after 10. I waited but you didn’t show, so I came to find you. And I find you _ dancing _ with… _ kissing _ this, this...”

Draco felt his fingers curl. He was just dying to smash his fist into… But no. He wouldn’t do that to Granger. He turned his back on the fucking git and looked at her. 

“Do you need to go?” 

Her eyes darted from him to the waste of space standing behind him. “I. I said that I would,” her voice was soft. Suddenly her eyes narrowed and she focused behind him. “Ronald, please go wait over there.” 

The Weasel didn’t move, but her glare turned ferocious. Finally, he grumbled and went. 

“All right then.” Draco actually felt his face shutter. 

“Please,” she put out her hand. “Don’t go yet. Wait for me? I don’t want to leave it like this.” 

So she wanted to smooth things over? Maybe she wanted them to be _ friends_. How fucking sweet. Draco felt like throwing up. But then his stupid mouth said ok. So she’d squeezed his hand and left, hurrying over to the Weasel and leading him out the door. The look the red-headed arsehole gave Draco as they left was a sore trial to his self control and fortitude. 

He suddenly realized that a) a lot of people were staring at him and b) Theo, Blaise and the other 8th years were nowhere to be seen, so he left the ballroom and found a window seat in an alcove in the hallway where he could see the door. He waited there for a while, staring out through the darkened panes of glass, head tilted back against the cool stone of the wall. A steady stream of people trickled out and eventually he heard the DJ announce the last song of the night. It occurred to him that she probably wasn’t coming back. 

All of a sudden he felt like a total arse, sitting there and waiting - for what? For her to come and tell him it had been fun and oh by the way I have to run back because my git of a boyfriend is waiting for me? 

He was being _ pathetic_. 

Jumping down from the alcove, he strode off with the vague thought that he might head back to his rooms. But then he remembered the inevitable post-ball party that he wanted _ no _ part of. He could also do without a pouting Theo. Or any questions about what had happened on the dance floor. He wanted to go be wounded where no one could see him.

He snorted a soft, mirthless laugh - and he knew the perfect place. 

A few minutes later he ascended the last stairs to the astronomy tower, which was mercifully deserted. No one having a cheeky after-party or makeout session, thank gods. He moved to the balustrade and leaned out, taking in the clear sky over the moonlit castle grounds. It was cold as _fuck _. He pulled his robes around him and sighed, images of the last six weeks crowding his brain. 

Granger laughing, Granger wiggling on his lap. Her smile when she turned around to show him his name on her jersey. Her face when she declared that they would not be entering the tea room. Her voice when she called him an unmitigated arse during their prison debate. Her lips on his. Her touch on his skin... 

_ Fuck_, he was really good at this pathetic git role.

Just then he heard movement behind him. His shoulders tensed. Great. Fucking _ company. _ That would be his cue to exit. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

He whirled. And there she was. He blinked several times - was he hallucinating? What had been in that fucking punch? But no, she was there, looking at him expectantly. He realized he needed to say something. 

“Yeah, when you didn’t come back, I left. The dance was over anyway.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to take that long. Ron can be very stubborn.” _ What the fuck did that mean? _

A brief smile flitted over her features. She tilted her head, “why are you here?”

_ Because I lost my head over you like a complete wanker but I know you don’t care about me so I’m up here feeling sorry for myself. _

“Couldn’t face the thought of Theo in full drama queen mode. He’s going to be a right dick for a few days.” He tried for a half-smile, but wasn’t quite sure he achieved it. 

She was strangely quiet, her face watchful. For some reason this unnerved him, so he rambled like an idiot. 

“Well, I guess we both met our goals, eh? Me attending the World Cup in style. You bringing the Weasel to heel. I’ll give you your half of our winnings as soon as Theo gives them to me. Although,” he looked away and snorted a laugh, “part of me feels a bit bad about conning him.” He cut his eyes to her. “If you weren’t owed your part, I’d probably just tell him he’d been played. It would be rather satisfying on its own.” 

As he was talking she had been moving closer. Did her face look a little fearful? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then opened them. _ What the fuck was going on? _

She let out her breath and said in a rush, “what if he hasn’t been played?” 

Draco felt himself freeze. He could hear every night sound and see the dust motes dancing in the moonlight around them. He stared at her, “what do you mean?” 

She stepped closer. “What was the crux of the bet?” 

He just looked at her, blinking. 

“It was to make me fall for you, wasn’t it?” she continued. She looked fucking _ nervous_.

_ Wait _... 

Slow realization began to dawn and he felt something break through his deep freeze. A trickle of something warm and … _ delighted _. He took a step toward her. 

“Really?” he said, feeling his lips lift - quite of their own volition. 

“Really.” Her face seemed to brighten as she looked at his. 

“But what about the Weasel?” 

“I told him we’re through. For good. That’s why it took so long. I had to convince him that I didn’t want him. That I’d fallen for somebody else.” 

His grin grew alarmingly large. He stepped into her and slid his arms around her waist. “And does this mean I get to kiss you in private?” 

She reached up and brushed his hair off of his forehead. “If you want to.” 

“Oh I fucking want to,” he whispered, crushing her against him and lowering his head to her lips. 

She met him with equal hunger, pressing into him and twining her tongue with his. Her hands were up around his neck, in his hair, her thumbs stroking his jaw. His hands swept up the gorgeous curve of her back and into the hair at her nape. He held her head as he explored every bit of her luscious mouth. After a bit she began to make the most delicious little sighs and moans and he felt himself go to another place - where he didn’t, _ couldn’t _ think. He could only feel, taste, smell. He backed her against the wall and began to explore ways to get into her clothes, to touch more of her, she was so fucking _ soft _ \- her skin like satin.

That thought put another in his mind and he murmured against her lips, “you know we actually do forfeit the wager.” 

“Do we? How?” she had moved away from his lips and was placing soft kisses on his jawline, so it took him a moment to respond. 

“We never actually consummated. That was a condition - _ mmm _ \- too.” She had _ nipped _ him and it was so searingly hot… Gods, and now his thoughts were on consummation.

“When were we supposed to do it by?” her breathy voice broke with desire as he turned the tables and trailed kisses down her lovely neck. 

“Tonight.” He was doing what he’d wanted to do before, pulling down her bodice and sweeping his tongue over the soft skin there. 

She shifted her arm behind him. “We still have 25 minutes.”

“Hmm?” _ What was she on about_?

“Until midnight.” 

All of a sudden he was _ highly _ alert. He pulled back and looked at her. She was smiling wickedly at him. 

“Think you can do it in 25 minutes? Well, 20 since it will take us five to get to your rooms.” 

“YES.” 

His response may have been a _ tiny _ bit eager. 

He grabbed her hand and started towing her towards the stairs. “But I don’t want this to reflect on my usual abilities,” he fixed her with a stern glare as she started laughing. “I’m just taking one for the team. For the bet.” 

She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows, “mmm hmm, sure.” 

“Also I have been in an extended state of sexual arousal for six weeks, so I’m a little wound up.” 

“And I’m not? I’ve been subjected to the same! And the only time I broke was when you were flaunting your smile _ and _ your bare pectorals in my face.” 

He laughed, then stopped for a brief moment to pull her into another heated kiss. “You know, I absolutely adore you,” he said when they broke apart. 

“And I, you. I’m so _ glad _ you feel the same.” Her smile was brilliant. 

He stared stupidly at her until he remembered what they were on their way to do and started leading them _ very quickly _ down the stairs. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?” His mind was on their destination. 

“Since we’ll, uh, be _ finishing _quickly, could I request a practical demonstration from your lecture the other week?” she asked with faux innocence, her eyes snapping with amusement. 

He stopped and laughed out loud. “Absolutely,” he promised.   
  


**~FIN~**

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see my visual inspirations for this story check out my pinterest board for it at:  
https://www.pinterest.com/scullymurphy/a-different-way-to-win/


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